The Wave Gazer
by Anna Marcelli Palmer
Summary: My Amy. My dearest. My love.
1. Waves

**_The Wave Gazer_**

**_by Anna Marcelli Palmer_**

Hither and thither they go.

Restless. Unchanging. Monotonous. Dreary. They wrestle their everlasting battle with the shore, every morning, and then, every noon when the wind blows sweetly, waves and sand -the eternal adversaries- kiss as though for dear life; and the trees lean over to watch the extravaganza, rustling their leaves in a gentle applause; and the sky paints itself a proud, royal scarlet, leaving small tints of gold floating on the water surface.

The waves, oh, the waves! They froath, and sing, and scream, and roar, powerful enough to mold the rocks, and yet affectionate enough to caress my fears away. They froath, and sing, and roar, and I am the only audience to their melancholic monody, the only one able to understand their unspeakable fate. They froath, and sing...and roar, and I tell them about what I remember, although there's no one really there to listen.

Back and forth they go. From dawn to midnight. From midnight to dawn. Today. Tomorrow. Forever.

And I watch them.

To tell the truth-what people consider as one, at least- my memory's too hazy for me to trust anymore. Happenings and lives pass in front of my eyes like an unintelligible mixture; I can't recall how or why, o-or even when I started doing this. Now, if anyone really cared, I'd say it has been forever-and maybe that's also true, considering that humans perceive "forever" as the span of a lifetime; and since the early ones of the many I've lived my mind can't resurrect, then yes: It indeed has been forever. Or many forevers, if you want.

Funny, isn't it? Have you ever tried to just stand on those jagged rocks on the edge, without moving, and keep looking down at the sea? All it ever does is dance -like it won't be doing the same the day after and the one after it. Never changing. Never sleeping. Like me. You understand now why I keep doing it? We keep company to each other. It may seem incomprehensible, or even insane, but people can't hear, they can't feel. They can't even _know_ how it is to be like the two of us.

Unchanging. Restless.

Sometimes, when the weather opens up and the cold succumbs under the daylight and zillions of colors and fragrances dominate the cliff, many citizens come here, with trinkets and packs and things that -I think- I used to know well in some of my previous forevers.

But what was I saying...? Ah, yes-the visitors. The civilisation -if that is the word- that craves for a good dose of raw nature, and comes every single time the snow melts, directly from that repugnant grey blur in the horizon behind. Short and tall they are, fat and thin they are, yet remain all the same to my eyes. They never notice me -or just pretend they don't- and I, in return, never turn to face them; I don't like the civilisation coming here. Everyone says it is a good thing, a nice thing, a changing thing. But I don't change. They say I am a bad thing. Many times images of it as it used to be many forevers ago pass in front of my eyes like nightmares. I think it killed someone. Or maybe more than one.

It's so confusing. So self-convicting. So saddening. I d-don't know. But I hate it.

But wait, wait! ...I remember! I used to somewhat like one of them- a female. She had first come over with her parents. She was still short then, like all those creatures are in their early forever, with bright golden hair that reminded me of the sand, and blue eyes that reminded me of the waves. I can't say for sure if she had a name. We had never talked to each other. But I think she looked like someone dear for me, someone long forgotten.

She was the only one that had turned their face to look at me. A small, insignificant movement you may say. For you, maybe. For me it was a shock, the warmth the feeling entailed. I..._felt _at that moment. And for the first time in many forevers I wondered. What is she thinking? Why is she staring at me? Do those peculiar beings feel so flustered when someone turns their gaze toward them?

The event heralded two or three more similar to it. The girl was always taller, always different, always gawking at me, sometimes even smiling-with that heavenly, unique way that showed off that tiny, infinitesimally tiny mark on her right cheek. For the very few hours we sat next to each other, time didn't seem so solid and unbearable. Infinity didn't matter, and, believe it or not, even someone like me wanted to hold that moment, press pause and stay like this -ha!- _forever._

Anyway. Be it crazy or not, we never said a thing to each other, and obviously, I never understood the reason of her friendly demeanor. And, considering the change I've seen on her daughter -the old lady that brought some short, loud persons with her the other day- my friend must be sleeping for a long time now.

Lucky thing humans soon go away. Away with them goes the laugh, the sound, the migraine beneath my skull, the unexplainable grief that overcomes the senses. So I can simply wish they didn't leave all that little personal stuff behind, the materials in which they keep their drinks and food, so as for them not to oscillate along with my companion, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, devastating, heart shattering, brazen, reminiscent of that horrid civilisation.

In the most regular and vertiginous of flashbacks, I see those creatures mocking at me, telling me I am worthless, an inferior life form, a waste of money and research. And then some of those point high, where the sky is, and say "he" has created them. I was afraid to ask you what that meant, or who "he" was, lest you'd understand everything and leave me. It doesn't matter though; it can't be such a big of a deal, since whoever it may be, he made the nasty grey blur in the distance, the laughs, the mocking and the small colorful stuff that oscillates on the water surface and...

...You 're thinking I 've lost my sanity, don't you? Heck, you may even be right. But the subject never has consciousness of its own paranoia, so I wouldn't tell for sure. One moment the universe is crystal clear, and my mind is relaxed and empty, and right after it the eyes of that fearsome male penetrate mine, moving hither and thither, back and forth, back and forth, familiar, as if behind a worn photograph, and with a perturbing, atrocious gleam deep in them. Their owner expressionless and lost; you think I haven't tried to talk to him? That's the worst part of it; his lips move, in a certain ominous way that prepares the listener for abhorrent, poignant words, and I know he's trying to warn me of something terrible- a forgotten nightmare that strangely remained between the lips. That is, if any voice was ultimately produced at all; the best thing to do is to ignore him. Never have I liked that nightmarish, silent, revolting man.

Days passed. Months passed. Years passed. Back and forth, hither and thither. Flowers withered and flowers grew. So many faceless little people asleep. Such a never ending cosmic rampage. Such a needless fuss. Light and Darkness flirt their undying interchange, and I still am here, vehemently counting forevers with my faithful wet pendulum.

...Sad? I don't feel sad. Not anymore. Not with you.

You came a day like all the rest, with nothing particular or fascinating in it. Rabid conversations flickered with a light breeze, and small traces of grass shyly propped their heads against the weak spring sunlight. The water shimmered with conceit, welcoming the humans that, defying the relatively low temperature, had entered it. There were also some small fish, if my brain isn't playing tricks again, quietly roaming under the surface; I examined them, wondering how it would be like to be one of them, to travel with the waves and forget -oh, ever so easily. A small, uninteresting, quiet life, without existential questions, doubt and pain.

The funniest thing is that I had seen you, and yet your view didn't stimulate anything inside me, as human books always claim things to happen. There, right where I am now leading my eyes, sat a rather plain, short young woman, in a weird outfit I -not claiming to know many things on people's way of thinking- was used to seeing only on individuals of the opposite gender. On her lap lay a strange white material -some sort of paper, probably- on which her hand, small and delicate, moved rapidly with a long, cylindrical stick -a pencil or whatever. Never chatting. Never laughing; just standing on the edge, papers in hand, with an expression on her face that somehow clashed that of the psyched croud all around us.

What caught my attention, though, was something else. Green, smart eyes, deep, insanely, illogically deep, rolling over the waves; back and forth they travelled, following the infinite commotion underneath; hither and thither they frolicked, vivid and luminous shards of emerald in a grey world full of scary, identical dolls. And the plain wilted in a flash, pallid and ashamed in front of their evergreen gaze. And my heart raced in overdrive when that gaze halted on mine.

I'd lie should I say that your beauty was breathtaking; lame would it be if I said you immediately stole my heart. My criteria are different from those of your race. The lightning in your eyes at that moment was more than enough. The hallucination of being alive it gave me was more than what I could ever bargain for.

It changed my innumerable forevers.

Oh, I really wish you'd say something. Anything you want-just give me a sign that you're listening. Now it's easier for me to tell you the truth; a tale of how I fell in love with you and how I never found the power to reveal you that I was different; a tale of how I was afraid that you would get disgusted by my true nature.

You loved a gun. You should have seen it coming. This, I mean.

Hither and thither you go, back and forth.

Oh, yes. I really wish you'd say something.


	2. Heart

There is something strange about the way you are staring at me.

Eyes as solid and colorless as glass, not willing to betray the thoughts hiding underneath. At times you give me the impression you are not quite listening, not really paying attention to my story. What a shame. It may not be a happy one, but it's _mine_ nontheless. Means something to _me. _I was hoping it would be the same for you, too.

Amy.

My steps had automatically carried me next to the bench on which those hands, wan and delicate, were working their magic. I had bashfully expressed my inability to understand what you were doing. You see, I couldn't remember! It had been ages since I'd seen anyone produce images on paper for the last time...

You laughed. Never quite figured out why. Maybe you had simply found the statement humorous. Then, my sun rose for the very first time, and I was enabled to see myself through the most beautiful cosmic mirror.

Eyes as green as life itself. Bright and extravagant and surrounded by gorgeous lashes.

Thin lips, plain and imperfect. They spoke. My senses in turmoil, clearing and faltering and wearing each other's clothes, to the point where I couldn't tell hearing from vision anymore. My mind a jumbled mess of incoming signals. There was only indefinite shapes randomly surfacing from the haze, and you.

Waves. Unmoving, colorless waves in black and white.  
You had drawn them on your block. And there was something downright ominous about the way they were standing still, frozen in their dimentionless world like smiles on old photographs. Something downright dead that resembled my soul.

I let you drone on the whole afternoon about them. You seemed to love them so much. Face shining in enthusiasm, hands gesturing frantically to every possible direction. Your whole body a living canvas of emotion, beautifully described by the colors of the fading sun.

And I just stood there, with the delicate whisper of the water still in my ears, living on every word you were saying. Learning about who you were back at the world of the real people, about your studies, about your art. Always listening. Always silent. There was nothing I could say without betraying a part of what I was. Of what I am.

Then it was finally time for you to return to the civilisation. And when the whole place was once again as lonely as a desert, I sat at my usual position.

Terrifyied by the bubbling sensation within my chest, I dreamt of the next afternoon.

Awake, with your image beating in my man-made heart.


	3. Lips

The sun climbed up to its celestial throne, painting the horizon a fiery crimson. Everything was slowly but steadily brought to life and a new day began. A gentle morning breeze was blowing, and thus the waves had abated to a subtle trickle.

Sitting at my usual position, eyes following the patterns small fish roaming underneath the surface created, listening to the almost lyrical sound of water licking rock. Whispering to myself nonsensical thoughts tormenting the mind. _If only that erratic female would reappear today. If only I had the chance to see her again. If only she wanted to see me again. _

And reappear you did. That same afternoon, while I was gazing at the seagulls peacefully floating above the unmoving azure, your voice, that voice I would hear so often from that moment and on -metallic and enervating but so deeply beloved- came to my ears from somewhere behind. Like a stalled robot, I automatically veered towards the source, and saw you. Waving enthusiastically, clumsy limbs jolting to every possible direction; however, not once in my life had I seen so much grace.

To... me? Was it me? No. Of couse, I should be wrong. Couldn't be. Me, disliked and marginalized and loathed by people -nah, never.

I only figured out that it indeed was me the one you were gesturing at, when rough footsteps echoed, getting louder and louder -footsteps of someone fast approaching. Upon turning my face I met with the beauty of the world, and nothing in the Universe was going to be the same anymore.

You showed me a picture -one you had created the night before, after returning to a place you called a "home". It depicted that revolting man constantly staring through the water surface, and it vaguely occured to me that all these years I had been seeing my reflection. Strange thing that simple thoughts like that only come to your mind when you are not alone. Anyway, I stammered that it was great and realized that it made you happy.

You had also given it a title, _The Wave Gazer_. And after that, bashfully confessed you didn't even know my name.

My name. Peculiar thing, of all information regarding who I was and what my roots were, the only piece that never faded from my memory was the name. Project Shadow. At that moment, though, my lips only formed the word "Shadow", because I could faintly recall that the word "project" used to raise suspicion amongst people from your race.

Conversationally, it that cheerful manner of yours one could only adore, you remarked that it was a "rare" and "amazing" name, and added that yours was Amy.

Amy. After you left, back at that night, I explored the beach, examining the colorful stuff people had -as always- forgotten behind. A few minutes later my hands were carrying what I wanted; a cylindrical stick like those you used to carry, and a scrap of the thin, white substance you had called "paper."

Surprisingly, I still remembered how to write, even though keeping my right hand stable proved itself quite a difficult task. A minute later, your name had been formed on the white material, so I folded it with caution and cherished it in the pocket of my worn leather jacket -the one covering the part of one's torso where the heart is supposed to be.

Kept it there forever after, until paper, name, fabric and heart became one entity. Kept it there until today.

Anyway, back to my narration. Not much detail to remember after that incident, sadly. The few next days a total blur, with your presence lurking somewhere nearby, island of hope amidst the oceans of my inner desperation. Think I had told you some lies, based on the very few experiences from the times when I belonged to the world of humans that hadn't yet been erased from my memory. Worked hard for the GUN -although I couldn't remember what those three letters could possibly mean- , tried to sustain peace and tranquility in the city. Had lost the woman I loved due to a tragic accident. Enough information for me to become someone worth talking to -a real person with a life back there.

I insisted that we only met there, in front of the endless sea we both seemed to like so much. You didn't protest. Probably found it exciting -having a place completely to ourselves, something to call "our spot".

Next thing I know, we 're chatting, daydreaming, laughing together with petty things, gazing at the stars, trying to detect all the visible constellations from our hemisphere. Remember how you once told me that, when a small star dies, an explosion happens and flares the sky like a firework, leaving behind the dust we're made of. Even as I recall it, this line brings a smile to my lips. Everything is made of stardust. No matter who created me, I come from the cosmos' black entrails, just like all of you do.

Then, one night, your eyes delved into mine, the reflection of the moon an unearthly sparkle within their depths. Something deep inside of me exploded and filled every acre of the flesh with a familiar warmth. If anything, I could still understand what this meant, so my lips moved repeatedly, but no sound would be produced, and then words failed us both. Senses in overdrive, external signals unintelligible. The feeling of your hand that had clenched tight around mine came remote to the mind, spreading a burning sensation through me.

And then, just then, with the melody of the ocean filling my ears, with the image of the moon through your insanely green eyes still projected underneath my shut eyelids, with a million questions piercing through my heart, I leaned in, and brushed my lips against yours.

Yes. You loved a gun. But you 'll probably never be able to even suspect how much the gun loved _you._


	4. Mind

Your eyes. Your enormous, paradoxical eyes of deep jade. Flashed open in an ungodly way, face a mask of agony rocking back and forth upon the water surface. Tired mind tries to remember. Why did it come to this...?

But, then again, I am quite unsure about what "this" may refer to; you are limp, silent, and a weird feeling that I am all alone despite your presence is starting to suffocate every trace of logic left within my head. Strangely enough, some minutes ago everything made perfect sense, and yet now it's all a massive blur. Why am I saying all this to you? Why aren't you responding in any way?

Okay. No need to panic. Maybe if I finish my narration every missing detail will eventually come to the surface, and this is what I intend to do; after all, we are a couple, and couples are supposed to share stuff, aren't they?

So, as I said before...we kissed, and after that my life became very peculiar, poignant and exhausting in an unexplainable and unsettling way. All I knew was that I loved you, I loved you, I loved you -I loved your eyes, your petite figure, the erratic clothing you wore, the way your right hand waltzed upon the paper when you drew, the tiny mark above your left eyebrow when you frowned, your everything. So much so, that my heart ached merely at the sight of your smile.

Soon after that came a strange feeling of incompleteness, of paralyzing worry that something might happen to you when we're apart. Found myself craving to protect you from the world, and yet so unable to do so. Caring about someone that was not me. Virtualy dying of unhingement whenever you were a little late for our rendezvous.

Then, a sheer dread that deprived me of my sleep. A perfectly normal, endlessly charismatic girl and a half-mad android -a _couple!_ What if my true identity came to surface? Sooner or later, I would have to follow you in the world of the living, meet your family, your friends. Prove that I was a real person with a real life to the society I hated and feared, using my nonexistent skills... soon my true identity, my unnatural roots would be revealed, and then you'd be appaled, and repulsed, and dissappointed, and-

...I would lose you. And losing you without being able to die afterwards -that would be infinitely excruciating.

All I knew was that I hated you, I hated you, I hated you -I hated your eyes, your petite figure, the erratic clothing you wore, the way your right hand waltzed upon the paper when you drew, the tiny mark above your left eyebrow when you frowned, your everything. Hated it all for it was making me suffer worse than I'd suffered for countless eons before.

...After all, people in my memory were evil, heartless -how could I believe you weren't? You'd just go away when your forever was over, anyway. Like all of them eventually did.

And like this weeks came by, time flowing as slow as syrup. Like this came tonight. Tonight...

Tonight started like every other night, full of discussions, laughter, full of the happiness you generously provided me. And yet -I was unable to enjoy it. The more time we shared, the more those terrible thoughts haunted me, the more an unpleasant feeling flooded the heart, pumped through the veins like venom.

I knew this all was doomed to end -couldn't hide forever, of course. Doomed to lose you. Doomed to lose my love, my life, my world.

Suddenly, my arms had surrounded your body, clenching you as tight as my muscles could manage.

"I love you", I whispered like a stalled robot, as though this was the last phrase left with which to defend myself. "I love you."

And then -just then-

-we-

-you...

...You laughed in a manner I couldn't decipher, and took my face in your most delicate of hands. We kissed. Until the air from our lungs was long gone. An unknown sentiment started to burn inside of me.

Before I could even become conscious of my actions, we were exploring each other in a way I had n-never imagined. Before I could tell, my hands were p-pulling your clothes off, lips abandoning your mouth to visit your neck, your shoulders, your torso... An unbearable longing set fire to my senses. Your fingers trying to unbutton my worn shirt almost s-scortched the skin.

Suddenly I -I was inside of you, bodies and souls interwined, palms trailing each other's back, p-pleasure too much for me to take. Mind and senses in overdrive, and my voice -weak, abated down to a mere whisper- chanted inanely the only word that mattered anymore: Amy.

Amy. My Amy. My dearest. My love.

Your man, your wave gazer... was not the one you had thought.

A few minutes later it was over, and the dim moonlight was showering the naked figures of a duo that insanely came together. The universe had melted to an incoherent mass of senses -the smooth grass lying underneath, the stars faint halos of light hanging from above, skin against skin, your heartbeat in my ear, drops of sweat glistening on your face, the repeated movement of your beautiful chest as we breathed seconds goodbye.

It was too much to handle. Not supposed to be happening.

Bound to end when you found out about me -and I didn't want it to.

No.

No.

NO.

Oh, my... _Oh, my...!_

I remember! I -I_ understand! _

_..._

_..._

No, this can't be. I must be hallucinating again. But no -I should have known before, what with that frozen expression carved on your traits.

Speak to me, please... tell me I am wrong. I love you... I didn't -just tell me I didn't...

WHY ARE YOU SO SILENT? WHY? _WHY?_

Dreadful woman, is this your way of taking revenge? By staring at me petrified? By oscillating recurrently like a broken doll upon the water? Ask yourself, goddammit what else could I ever do to protect myself? I would lose you! I -

icouldn'tstandlosinganotherpersoncouldnstandwat ching y oucomeandgo forthisallwas to omuchfor met obear ilovedyouilovedyousomuchd-didn'tyouseeih adtodosomethingtostoptheachingwithinmyheart?youdle avemeyoudLEAVEMEALLALONEwhenyoufoundoutiwasafuckin gguna bloodyk illingmachinenotsupposed tohavefeeli ngsgoddamitandsoi clenchedmyfingersaroundyourneckyourbeautifulneckan d youscreamedandtearstumbleddownyourcheeksandaskedme whybuticouldn't r espondiwaschokingo n myowntearsiwascryingandcryingandcryingandscreaming becauseyouwerei npainandiloveyouiloveyou iloveyouandjustcouldntsandlosingyouihatedyouihated youihated youforthethingsyoudidto m yheartandjust tellme i didn't kill you

.

.

.

.

...i am tired. wish the world ends tonight so that we can both be stardust again. wish that i die tomorrow so that i neverforgetaboutyou. wish id ie tomorrowso that i can say with certainty

that i 'll love you forever


End file.
